


Black and White

by sendgays



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: M/M, Other, Polyamory, yaoi/asexual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 20:09:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5511452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sendgays/pseuds/sendgays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coming to terms with a new relationship, and the involvement of a certain Namekian in said relationship, Vegeta copes with living on the Lookout the only way he knows how: using battle tactics to win in romance. Inspired by "Ivory Tower" by Sifl-senapi. Poly pairing Vegeta/Gohan/Dende</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black and White

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sifl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sifl/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Ivory Tower](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5044822) by [Sifl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sifl/pseuds/Sifl). 



> A/N: Inspired by “Ivory Tower” by Sifl/Sifl-senpai and an ensuing conversation about said story. While I came up with the pairing because I have lots of feels for Vegehan (I don’t know how you call this ship, so I’m going with it) and Steamed Rice with a Side of Escargot, Sifl came up with a lot of the ideas and dynamics explored in the story, so much credit given there! This would have never happened without you and you are thebombdotcom. Also, a thank you to Cluen for helping me edit this! 
> 
> UPDATE: There was more I wanted to do with this...but it has been so long since I last wrote on it that I sorta...forgot...what direction I was going in.... I am the absolute worst and so resorted to just giving it an ending. ;-; I'm so sorry!! And since my second chapter was short I just made it one longer story instead of two chapters. If you want to skip to the new stuff, it's right after Vegeta leaves the Lookout!

The Saiyan Prince quietly exited the special training room that had been set up for him and walked across the glassy tile of the Lookout. Passing by a meditating Piccolo and a smiling Mr. Popo, he took purposeful strides towards the small bedroom he had been calling home for the past couple of weeks. Just as he was about to enter, he caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye, of Dende standing by one of the flowerbeds, watching him with a shy smile. Nodding at the Guardian, he slipped past the door and pulled off his training gear, opting to take a quick shower before changing into just a pair of his black shorts.

Laying down on the bed and folding his arms under his head, he marveled at how his life had come to this. When the eldest son of Kakarot had approached him with those wide eyes and that blush across his whole face, Vegeta wasn’t entirely sure why he had agreed. Maybe he had just been lonely for so long that he didn’t care what the conditions were: as long as he was with another Saiyan, well half Saiyan in this case, that was all that mattered to him. When he had told Bulma he was leaving and why, she had laughed, thinking he had finally gone mad from the gravity crushing his brains all those years. Then when she saw Gohan, she realized he wasn’t kidding—then there were tears.

She let him go in the end. Not that she could have done anything to stop him, but they both knew he had wanted her approval regardless. Things had not been the same between them since Buu, nobody was quite the same since then, but to watch your husband murder innocent people just to have a fight with his rival, then to know that he had blown himself up to stop the monster he helped unleash? It was a lot to accept and while the Dragon Balls could bring the lives back, they hadn’t so easily wiped away the abyss of emotions that grew between the former lovers.

They had been on a temporary split that had spanned months. Still living together, seeing as Vegeta really had nowhere else to go, but living separate lives. More separate than before anyway, since Vegeta’s training usually came first even when they were together. Gohan had seen it as his opportunity and had asked Vegeta for a spar—and just kept coming back. Then when the Saiyan Prince finally got curious enough to ask why the boy, who no longer had the will to fight, wanted to train with him, Gohan made his move.

It took Vegeta several weeks to accept the offer and several more to agree to move to the Lookout. Gohan’s persistence had taken him by surprise; he hadn’t expected someone so mild-mannered to pursue him so aggressively. Maybe that’s why he had finally given in to his curiosity; he respected the boy for fighting for what he wanted until he got it—even if it had meant standing up to the Prince of all Saiyans. But he hadn’t expected Bulma’s tears when he told her his decision—he was still unsure if she had actually hoped they would reconcile one day or if she was just glad she no longer had to pretend they would. So she let him go, with the son of the man he had killed all those people for in order to get an opportunity for a good fight.

Was it wrong that Vegeta had ended up with the son of Kakarot? The Saiyan he had traveled across the universe to kill and somehow ended up in an uneasy alliance with? Vegeta had finally been able to come to terms with his rival surpassing him and always staying one step ahead, which was probably what made his relationship with Gohan a little easier to cope with. After having moved to the Lookout, Kakarot had shown up only one time. From the serious look in the Earth-raised Saiyan’s eyes, Vegeta had been sure he had come for a fight. Something along the lines of “how dare you”, “isn’t he a little too young for you”, or even “he already has someone.”

Instead they just stood rigidly before each other, the intensity of their glares enough to bring all the other residents of the heavenly realm running outside in fear of their home getting destroyed during the fight between the two superpowers. But the fight never came. Vegeta knew what the look in Kakarot’s eyes had meant—he was a father too after all. He didn’t want to think about it yet, but he wondered if one day he would be giving some suitor the same look. So the Prince just stared back with a look that equaled the intensity of his commitment to Gohan. Then Kakarot’s eyes softened and a smile played at his lips as he raised two fingers to his forehead; then he was gone. Nothing else needed to be communicated between the two of them.

Hearing the handle turn and the door slowly open, he let out a sigh as the short Namekian eased into the room. He kept his eyes on the ceiling, not in a mood to talk and certainly not in the mood to have his mind read.

“Vegeta?” The soft voice broke through all his hopes of being alone.

He only snorted in reply, not turning to look at Dende because he already knew he’d have some sickening look of compassion on his face. Feeling the mattress shift beside him, he let out a small growl from deep in his throat to warm the smaller being that he wasn’t in the mood for whatever bonding time the Guardian was going to try and force on him.

“Vegeta, I can feel you’re upset. I’m here if you want to talk about it, I know it would please Gohan if we got along better.” Dende spoke so casually and so calmly, even though he knew it was being manipulative of him to bring Gohan into this.

“Shouldn’t you be watching over the Earth instead of spying on my mind?” Vegeta muttered darkly, turning on his side so that his back was facing the intruder of his peace.

“I don’t need to spy on your mind to tell you are upset; and I can perform multiple tasks and still maintain my connection to the Earth, as you well know.” Dende answered innocently.

Vegeta snorted, picturing how red Gohan’s face would have turned if he had been there to hear that. He let his thoughts linger on the boy, a truly innocent creature most of the time—yet he had been bold enough to approach the Prince with his offer. Had said that he had always felt drawn to the brooding warrior after the Cell Games, but hadn’t realized what it meant until he was older. A shudder ran through Vegeta as he recalled the exact words that had come from those innocent lips, ‘ _The darkness in you calls out to the darkness in me. You understand me, Vegeta_.’

Vegeta understood the darkness Gohan referred to all too well. The boy was right, they had both been forced to fight other people’s battles from a young age and both been broken by it—the only difference was that one covered it with a scowl and one covered it with a smile. It was why he had respected the boy, that and he was a hell of a fighter when the darkness took over. More powerful and more terrifying than Frieza had ever dreamed of being. Vegeta had dreamed of that power his whole life and Gohan would fear it for the rest of his.

But somehow they found solace in each other. Gohan accepted Vegeta even though he wasn’t the strongest, never belittled his efforts, and encouraged him in a supportive way to keep growing stronger. In return, Vegeta would continue pushing his limits further and further, so that the boy so afraid of his own power would never have to rely on it again.

The feeling of two small hands on his back shook him out of his memories. “I never gave you permission to touch me.” His whole body tensed at the touch.

“I’m merely trying to help you relax, you’ve been living here for two weeks now, but you always get so tense when Gohan is away.” Dende mused, pointedly not stopping his hands from massaging the shoulder exposed to him.

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with being around a brooding Namekian, that bizarre genie, and someone who can’t respect the privacy of other people’s thoughts.” Vegeta snapped, slapping at the hands on his back to remove them.

“Well, if you would talk to me more, I wouldn’t have to resort to that method. I believe that it would be for the best if we could be friends. Can’t you try for Gohan’s sake?” Dende inquired softly.

Growling as the little green bastard brought Gohan back up, Vegeta couldn’t think of a good comeback fast enough. When he had agreed to the half-Saiyan’s offer, something had changed in Vegeta—like a switch had been turned on once he tasted the boy’s sweet vanilla lips. Like in that second Gohan somehow possessed him more deeply than Babidi ever could—and what Gohan wanted, Vegeta made sure to give him. It had amazed him how easily he had adjusted to his new life with his mate, but at the same time it made so much sense to him than his life with his wife ever had. Gohan understood him and accepted him—never trying to change or domesticate him as Bulma had.

Vegeta craved that acceptance and thanked Gohan with every fiber of his self for being the one to give it to him. Never a bickering challenge to be “right” or constant head games with each other, the half-Saiyan wore his heart on his sleeve and was never petty. Best of all, Gohan never demanded flowery displays of affection from him in order to validate their relationship. He willingly gave the reticent man space when needed, but it never felt like inattention. The Prince treasured him for that.

So Vegeta felt the Guardian was swinging pretty low by using that fact against him. “I don’t think Gohan would be happy if I blasted you into smithereens for touching me either.” Two could play that game.

“True,” Dende paused a second to gather his thoughts over the hot-tempered Saiyan’s hollow death threat, “but seeing as me being alive maintains Gohan’s base level of happiness, us becoming cordial with each other would serve to raise that happiness, thus being the better option.”

“Tch, I’ve been cordial enough by not killing you already.” This was when most people would give up on conversation with him and leave—either too exasperated to continue or too scared that he might actually be serious. However, the soft-spoken Namekian was not most people and more importantly, was the one person who got to play the Gohan card and get away with it.

“Give me two minutes of your time and after that, if you still want me to leave then I will.” The young Guardian offered a compromise.

“Fine, you have two minutes and then get out.” He tolerated the other’s presence for Gohan’s sake, but didn’t feel the need to become friends with the boy. They got along well enough when the half-Saiyan was involved, but usually went their separate ways when their mutual interest was at school on Earth.

“Thank you for agreeing, now please lay on your stomach.” Dende instructed politely.

Vegeta complied warily, hating to be in such a vulnerable position, and turned his head to stare at the wall instead of his forced companion. His whole body tensed as he felt a small body crawl on top of his, resting in the small of his back.

“Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Vegeta growled, every fiber in his being trembling at holding back from carrying out the previous death threat.

“Relax, Vegeta, this is a better vantage point to massage your back from and that is all. As you would say: ‘This does nothing for me.’” Dende laughed softly at his own joke, working sore muscles with his healing hands.

Rolling his eyes, Vegeta knew Gohan would have laughed at it as well—the half-Saiyan seemed to have an odd affinity for corny jokes that had rubbed off on the Guardian. The Prince didn’t really see the appeal in the Namekian outside of what the unique applications of his healing abilities in the bedroom allowed; Vegeta didn’t mind Dende’s participation in the least when this powers were involved. But outside of that? He had no idea what had drawn Gohan to him in the first place. Because they spent some time on Namek together? Vegeta had been on Namek too and the memories were not something he wanted to reminisce about.

But their relationship was something that his mate desired and thus Vegeta would not deny him. Apparently neither would Dende, and he respected the Guardian for that. The quiet Namekian had been there first for Gohan, had comforted him in trying times, but still loved him enough to accept that there was room in the half-Saiyan’s heart for two lovers.

“Thank you, Vegeta. I’m glad that we seem to share that same respect towards our mate.”

Dende’s voice had the sickening tone that Vegeta equated to tree sap or other overly sugary substances. “I thought we agreed you weren’t going to read my mind, boy.” In fact, he had half a mind to kick the Guardian out now, two minutes be damned.

“I didn’t. As I’m sure you are aware, Saiyans possess strong telepathic abilities; _you_ sent the thought out to me.”

If there was ever a time when Vegeta would have accused the small Namekian of being smug, it would have been right now. He must have dropped his guard during the massage. He focused on protecting his mind again in the way Gohan had taught him, putting up walls between him and the psychic on his back.

“Isn’t it time for you to be going?”

“I believe I have one minute left. You don’t mind if I take off my robe, do you?”

Feeling the rustling of fabric before he could even answer, Vegeta suddenly became aware of what was going on and why the Namekian had insisted on giving him a back massage in the nude. “For the Guardian of Earth, you’re one hell of a sneaky bastard,” Vegeta laughed dryly and turned his head so that he’d be able to see the door. He didn’t have to look at Dende to know the Namekian was grinning.

“As I said earlier, I believe Gohan would be pleased if we got along better.” That almost smug tone was back in his voice, making Vegeta honestly chuckle as he felt Gohan’s ki getting closer and closer to the Lookout. “Would you like me to undress you as well?”

“You could have saved me the trouble and told me your plan from the beginning.” Vegeta answered with a smirk, lifting his hips up and pushing his shorts down over his thighs. Dende turned and pulled them all the way off before settling back into the slight dip of the Saiyans back.

Resuming the massage with a soft, but pleasing touch, Dende whispered to Vegeta, “But I really would like to get to along better with you. You don’t have to feel like I am competition to you.”

Answering with a snort, Vegeta knew that Gohan had touched down and would probably head straight to this room out of concern. Of course Vegeta had never really given him any reason to assume they would only be fighting if left alone together; but then again they had never occupied the same space willingly without his presence, so maybe it was enough to make the boy worry regardless. He pushed the thoughts out of his head as he felt that shining ki right on the other side of the door. He could think about that later. Right now the priceless gaping face of the teenage boy, as he dropped his books on the floor at the sight that met him, was the most important thing in Vegeta’s world.

XXXXX

Extraditing himself from the jumble of sheets and bodies, Vegeta pulled on his shorts and a tank top before strolling out into the night air. Walking all the way out to the edge of the floating platform, he looked down on the world below. Even with his Saiyan eyes, he couldn’t pick out much, mostly just landscapes, but it still calmed him to know there was something there. An Earth he had died for still existed. Rubbing his eyes with a frown, he didn’t know why he was feeling so nostalgic today. As far as he could remember, the actual date was of no significance and nothing had happened in the time chamber to make him feel this way.

But then again, maybe that was what precisely the problem was: his feelings. Surprised at how his feelings towards Gohan had grown over the few weeks they had been together. Even more surprising that he was able to tolerate sharing the boy. He truly hadn’t minded at first since he was just testing the waters, so to speak. But even as time went on and he ended up caring for Gohan a lot more than he had planned on, it didn’t quite bother him in the way he thought it might have. Maybe it was the Namekian making him feel this way. Always giving him small smiles and trying to initiate conversations. Always trying to make him feel _welcomed._

And the little stunt today? Vegeta smirked at the world below him; it had definitely been a surprise to say the least. In the time he had been here, Vegeta had never seen the Guardian initiate something like that before. But then again, the Saiyan wasn’t always there when those two were alone, just as Dende did not always participate with Gohan and himself. So maybe the boy really did have a wild streak in him and Vegeta had merely never noticed before.

Frowning a little, the royal mind returned to a previous conversation about getting to know Dende better. It wasn’t as if he was totally opposed to the idea, he just didn’t deem it terribly necessary at the moment. Maybe if things continued to work out for a few more years—no, he shook his head. The green brat was right, as much as he hated to admit it. And he really hoped that the sneaky psychic would never pry in his head long enough to know that Vegeta had admitted it.

Hearing footsteps approach him, a small smile briefly crossed his face as his half-dressed mate came to stand beside him, lightly wrapping a hand around Vegeta’s arm. The simple touch—easily broken away from if unwanted or open for closer contact if allowed—was so caring in its intent that if the older warrior wasn’t positive about Gohan’s lineage, then he would never have guessed the boy to be part Saiyan.

It honestly baffled him how Kakarot and his children had grown to be both incredibly fierce when needed and at the same time so gentle. The other humans he had met didn’t seem to be the same way. They all had some kind of vice, but the Sons somehow remained pure. Almost as if Kakarot’s brain damage was somehow hereditary. He hadn’t realized he was chuckling until he felt the hand on his upper arm shift, twisting inward so they were now standing arm in arm beside each other.

“What are you laughing about?” The boy with the shining soul asked.

“Just that the clown did something right in his life by complete accident.” The dark soul answered, not bothering to hide his small smile from his current company.

Gohan looked down into the Prince’s dark features with a look of mild confusion. Then he mirrored Vegeta’s expression with his own smile, probably having guessed that the statement was about him. The pair stood in silence for a few moments before the lean youth began to grow fidgety next to the reserved Saiyan.

Watching from the corner of his eye, Vegeta knew there was something Gohan wanted to say, but was too nervous to come out with it. The halfling was shifting on his feet and his eyebrows were slightly drawn down in a furrow. It was almost tempting to leave the shy boy in a state of torment by ignoring the behavior until he could no longer bear it and spoke up on his on will. But the short-fused Saiyan didn’t feel like waiting the amount of time it would take Gohan to work up the courage.

“Speak.” He encouraged the boy with a soft command. Interlacing his tanned fingers between slender pale ones, the tactical-minded warrior knew his mate needed both verbal and physical support sometimes in order to fully say what was on his mind.

“I just wanted to thank you for earlier, but then it sounds like I’m thanking you for sex and that’s not what I mean.” Gohan sighed, looking down at Vegeta with a look of concentration. “I mean that I’m glad that you are starting to get along with Dende well enough to do what you did.” His face flushed as the implications behind his words made themselves apparent.

“N-not because it led to sex, but that you were willing to spend time with him at all when I’m gone. I just worry sometimes that you two won’t be friends is all!” He looked down at the floor instead of the dark orbs studying his face in amusement.

Trying to hold in his excitement over how the conversation had progressed, Vegeta couldn’t be happier that his younger half had finally come out and said it. Now all future advances in becoming friends with the green runt could be attributed to this specific conversation and not to Vegeta’s own personal wishes. Not wanting to push his luck on being discovered, Vegeta gently tilted Gohan’s chin so that they locked eyes again. He wanted to say he would try for his mate’s sake, but the way the nervous halfling chewed his lip was too distracting to pass up; so he instead opted for making a silent vow on those soft pink lips. Surely the young genius would figure it out.

XXXXX

After Gohan had said his goodbyes to all residents of the Lookout and taken off for school atop of his golden nimbus, Vegeta opted to spend the morning relaxing on the steps of the southern entrance, knowing his presence here would eventually lead the Guardian into trying to converse with him. He didn’t have to wait long, as he predicted, since the short Namekian seemed to take great pleasure in accosting him anytime the Saiyan wasn’t training.

“Vegeta, it’s a pleasant surprise to find you here this morning. Is there anything on your mind?” Dende asked with a smile, settling himself on the step below the royal.

“Tell me why you love Gohan.” Vegeta demanded gruffly. He hadn’t actually meant to sound as angry as it had come across—it was merely his own embarrassment over the situation and asking such a personal question. However, if they were to share the boy, then he felt he had a right to know. He also didn’t have any doubt that the other would tell him.

Dende’s eyes widened for a moment before finally shrinking back down into a soft expression. “He has an honest heart, pure intentions, and he fights to overcome all obstacles—even when the obstacle is himself.” The Guardian wasted no time in answering even if it wasn’t really the information that Vegeta was looking for.

“I’m not talking about listing off his qualities, I meant how the hell the two of you ended up together.” Vegeta huffed, folding his arms in a grump over having to explain himself.

“Are you perhaps asking why Gohan loves me? You could ask him yourself if it interests you.” Dende replied calmly even though a tiny twitch at the corner of his lips indicated he found more amusement in the Prince’s predicament than he let on.

Obviously not amused with the given answer, the vexed warrior stood and tried to tower over the smaller man, even though there wasn’t as much of a height difference as Vegeta would have liked. “You know what I mean, brat! Aren’t you the god of this planet? Since when do gods date? Especially with mortal men?”

Dende replied cheerily without batting an eye at the sudden invasion of his personal space, “There is no rule that states I cannot fulfill my duty and also share my time with someone. I am always connected to the energy of the planet and having Gohan at my side gives me strength and peace. When his time here passes, it will be the memories of the times we shared that will continue to give me the same comfort.” He paused in his emotional speech as if considering something important before his eyes lit up and he spoke again.

“Consider this, Vegeta, both of us are strangers to this planet. And even though we both came for different reasons, we both had a specific person we were looking for here.”

“I didn’t come here to mate with a third class clown; I came to kill him.” Vegeta interjected sneered at the thought.

“But even so,” the humble Namekian continued on, “there were people who befriended us, but the only person to wholly accept both of us was Gohan. When Porunga wished us to Earth, Gohan was the first to offer a hand of friendship to you, even though Bulma—”

“Don’t speak of my relationship with Bulma.” Vegeta angrily cut the Guardian off with a warning snarl.

“I meant no disrespect. Merely that he saw good in you from a young age, even begging me to heal you on Namek.” Dende spoke softly, casting his eyes to the ground.

Now enraged that the conversation had gone so far from the intended course, Vegeta grabbed the front of the Namekian’s simple robe and pulled him close so that they were practically eye to eye.

“Don’t speak of what happened on Namek either.” With that last cautionary growl, he shoved the boy backwards and hastily made his way to his training chamber.

The large room was similar to the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, but time flowed normally here and he could enter as many times as he pleased. The gravity was heavier than normal for the planet, but the most important part was that it was capable of withstanding his full destructive power—meaning he could push himself as far as he wanted and never had to hold back in fear of a repeat of the gravity room accident. It was specially designed for him by Dende and Mr. Popo, a thought he somewhat resented at the moment.

He had to consciously stop himself from grinding his teeth as he began his usual routine. He thought he had asked a simple question and instead the green brat had managed to bring up two sore subjects that he deemed completely unrelated to the situation. A tiny part of his mind admitted that Bulma was somewhat relevant since she had born his son and given him a reason to settle down on this planet. If it wasn’t for her, he probably would have left after finding out that Kakarot wouldn’t be wished back to life. Without his rival there would have been no other reason to stay and he would have gone deep into space, tracking down any remnants of Frieza’s army and wiping them out systematically. Or maybe he would visit a certain icy planet and see how they liked having their home world destroyed.

A smile graced his tanned countenance, the mere thought already cheering him up. As his punches cut through the thick air faster than any normal eye could see, he played the scenario out in his head in beautifully vivid detail. He was almost tempted to ask Dr. Briefs for a ship. But that would almost certainly mean encountering Bulma, who would ask too many questions about why he needed a ship, and she would likely refuse him or worse: get Kakarot to stop him. No, it definitely wasn’t worth the trouble for now.

But now, thinking of Bulma led him back to thinking again about the conversation he had just left. He gathered energy between his two hands, letting his frustration push the glowing sphere larger and larger. First the Namekian had dared to mention his ex-wife and then had the gall to add in his all-around solid defeat on Namek. Letting the large ki ball fly off at what he pretended was Dende’s face, the agitated fighter began to gather another in his gloved hands. Although they had never spoken of it afterwards, a part of Vegeta still held a grudge against the boy for not healing him right away after he had let Krillin blast him.

It wasn’t a constant thought in his head, but every once in a while, when he witnessed Dende using his healing powers, he would think back to that time and the rage would be there. It had gone mostly forgotten for years, but now that he was spending much more time with the boy, the memory was present in his conscious more often. The short Saiyan was excellent at holding grudges and with this in mind he let his second blast fly at his imaginary little green target.

It wasn’t only that the brat hadn’t healed him immediately that got under his royal skin though, but since everything after that moment had gone to complete shit for him, it was a good starting point for his grievances. Drawing out his power to his fullest, he let the waves of energy wash over his lean body as he closed his teal eyes. Slowly he raised his palm and let his ki pool into a glowing sphere in his hand. The intensity of the blast would wipe out every last trace of Earth from the galaxy, but as he watched it fly off into the distance, it merely collided with a wall and exploded. Blonde hair melted back into ebony and when he opened his eyes again they were as black as midnight once more.

Settling onto the floor with a sigh, Vegeta didn’t actually feel much like training. But if he left then Dende would probably try to talk to him again—maybe even apologize, as if Vegeta wanted that—so it was better to stay in his training chamber where the others didn’t try to enter. And since he was here anyway, he may as well train. Resigning himself to doing sit-ups, he did actually begin to feel better around the five hundred mark. The pure repetitive exercise allowed his mind to wander more than during intense training routines and gave him time to develop a little plan to get some payback on the Guardian. Nothing overly harsh or harmful, after all he couldn’t risk the repercussions from Gohan if he did something extreme to Dende; just something to get under his green and pink skin.

Stopping in a seated position, Vegeta pushed himself off the floor and exited the room with a completely neutral expression and his thoughts fully shielded. It wouldn’t do to have his plans ruined by Dende prying into the corners of his mind to see why the formerly furious Prince was now in high spirits. Searching out the strange ki of the residing genie was not hard and soon Vegeta found him in the gardens, watering his plants as usual. After quickly relaying his request, the Saiyan immediately took to the air and started flying to the earth, not wanting to linger under the gaze of those wide eyes that always seemed to bore into him.

The first stages of his plan in place, Vegeta now searched for the unmistakable feeling of a true Saiyan ki, hoping the clown was at home. Not that he wanted to pay his rival a visit, but the prince knew that animals varied based on their environment and he wanted to be sure that he was hunting in the Mount Paozu area. He also knew that more likely than not, Kakarot would come to investigate why Vegeta was in the area unaccompanied by Gohan. But he would have to hope that the third class would stay oblivious to his presence in the region.

Feeling close to the only other pureblood left, Vegeta descended into the heavily forested mountains, stretching his senses out for signs of prey. There were definitely several creatures in the area, but they all seemed to have too small a ki to be what the prowling Prince was after. He searched further, but didn’t seem to find what he was looking for. ‘ _Perhaps this was the wrong area after_ _all_ ’ he mused, floating back above the tree line to observe the surrounding land. Sighting a slightly more open area nearby that might be better for predators, Vegeta made his way there and searched for ki again. It was slightly more promising, but still nothing nearby could be large enough to be what he was hunting. Quietly descending into the upper branches of a tree, the hunter stalked after the largest ki signature nearby until he finally came upon a large dinosaur that looked perfect for their dinner.

It was an ugly brownish color with multiple spikes on its head and most importantly, it was large enough for two full grown Saiyans to share. He raised his hand to charge a concentrated blast instead of wasting time fighting it. When he felt his attack was powerful enough to kill the beast in one decisive blow, but not too strong as to cause collateral damage, he readied his aim and threw the small sphere.

“Hey, Veget—aahh!” Kakarot barely leapt out of way in time, the ends of his spiked hair smoking from the close call. At least Vegeta had managed to down his target if not his rival.

“Kakarot, what the hell are you doing here?” He growled even though he was sure what the reply would be.

“I live here.” The tall Saiyan grinned as if it was the most obvious fact in the universe. “Whaddya doin’ here?” He looked over his shoulder at the dinosaur on the ground and his face lit up. “Oh! Yer huntin’? I’ll start the fire!”

The younger Saiyan seemed incredibly enthusiastic about eating his meal and Vegeta rolled his eyes before grabbing the back of Kakarot’s gi to hold him in place.

“It’s not for you, idiot. It’s for your son.” Kakarot’s shoulders slumped and the corners of his mouth turned down into a pout. Vegeta ignored the childish expression and slid past him to collect his kill. Why couldn’t today have been one of the 360 days that the idiot spent training on the planet of that pathetic god? He began arranging the dinosaur in a position to field dress it and let out an annoyed sigh as his unwanted companion grabbed onto a leg to help.

“There’s somethin’ I’ve been meanin’ to ask ya, Vegeta.” Kakarot spoke in his usual cheery manner as if his conversation or help was welcome. He placed the massive head of the dinosaur atop a boulder and stared at Vegeta. The inquisitive look in his eyes made the prince instantly wary that it would not be a question he wanted to answer.

“If ya like guys how come ya never came onto me? Why’d ya pick Gohan?”

“Wha—?!” Vegeta clenched his jaw shut and closed his eyes as he forced air through his nose. Of all the questions and of all the days, Kakarot managed to hit the jackpot of bad combinations. He let out a slow exhale and glared at the other Saiyan.

“Because you are an idiot. The fact that you even asked me that question confirms it. I didn’t ‘pick’ you because I don’t like you.” His body was bristling with adrenaline, just waiting for a reason to throw the first punch. The way Kakarot was rubbing his chin in thought gave Vegeta the impression he would soon get the chance.

“But ya fused with me and ya told everyone on Earth to give me energy for the Spirit Bomb.”

“Because I had to do that or die. Imbecile.”

There was a long stretch of silence that didn’t seem to be a good sign considering who Vegeta’s conversation partner was. Somewhat afraid of what he would see but doing it anyway, Vegeta looked over at Goku to see a playful smile on his face. It was infuriating that everyone seemed so casual with him today—everyone so willing to smile at him when they should be cowering away instead. He knew Kakarot was going to say something idiotic before he was able to leave with his dinner.

“Nah, ya were already dead, remember? Why don’ ya wanna say ya like me, Vegeta? I like ya plenty.”

Rolling his eyes, Vegeta ignored the conversation and continued on with his task. The faster he got this done the quicker he could get away from the needling questions. He didn’t need to tell Kakarot anything—he’d just stay silent and complete this task. The idiot could talk all he wanted. He wasn’t going to get under Vegeta’s skin today. He just wouldn’t.

“’Sides, I’m a Saiyan and Gohan’s only half so it would’a made more sense fer ya to like me—”

“Do you want me to like you, imbecile?!” Vegeta could feel his body tingling with anger while his ki crackled around him. His hair flickered between black and gold, barely containing the desire to kill the man in front of him only for Gohan’s sake.

“Nah. I’m just wonderin’.”

“Just. Wondering?” He spit out the words as if they were hot coals.

Kakarot grinned and nodded. “I was just curious about it is all!”

Tightening his fists and tensing for a fight, Vegeta stopped himself and let out a long breath. He didn’t have time to get drawn into a brawl with Kakarot now.

“I swear to all the gods in this universe that I will kill you for this, Kakarot. But I have more important things to do right now.” His body ached to beat the fool into the ground—it would have been great to take out his frustration from Dende on Kakarot. He swore he would come back later and even the score.

“Whatever ya say, Vegeta! Ya want me to help ya take this back?”

“Now he asks.” Vegeta grumbled to himself. Glowering at Kakarot, Vegeta moved to collect the meat himself. “No, I don’t want your help.”

“Okay, no problem!”

There was a hand on his shoulder before he realized what was happening and in the next second they were back at the Lookout. With a roll of his eyes he wondered if Kakarot was really this dumb or just did it to annoy him. He jerked away from the trespasser without a second look and walked off to find Mr. Popo.

“See ya, Vegeta!”

Kakarot’s energy disappeared again and Vegeta’s felt more at ease instantly. He’d had enough prying questions for one day. He’d lived through the subjugation of his entire race, his planet being blown up, the slaughter of entire civilizations, and come back from the dead twice. But the only topic people were interested in seemed to be his love life. Stomping through the garden, he caught sight of the genie and summoned the strange being with a nod and a glare.

“Ah, Vegeta, you’re back so soon. I trust it went well.”

Vegeta wondered if it was the blood covering him from head to toe that made it obvious. “Of course. Did you prepare what I asked for?”

Mr. Popo nodded with an eerie grin. “Everything is ready on the southern edge of the Lookout.”

Grunting something akin to a word of gratitude, Vegeta headed back to collect his bounty. His eyes fluttered in irritation as he saw Dende surveying his haul. That little green bastard had no business being there other than to ensure a conflict. His heels clicked on the white tiles as he held his head up and put on an unreadable mask.

“Welcome home, Vegeta. If our cooking is not enough for you, please let me know so I can inform Mr. Popo of any changes we need to make.”

It might have been concern, but Vegeta wasn’t in the mood to play along. “Sometimes you just need to kill something with your own hands.”

Dende frowned and tilted his head. “I guess that is another desire I don’t understand.”

“Hmph. How could you? There isn’t much sport in drinking a glass of water.” He knelt to gather the meat and then hoisted the giant lump over his head, blood dripping down atop him. A victorious feeling welled in his chest at Dende’s scrunched nose.

The feeling didn’t last long.

“Beyond food, I don’t understand the desire to hurt another being.”

“But you would leave one to die.” With a snort, he stomped off. Even over his own heavy strides, he could hear the soft shuffle of the imp running to catch up to him.

“If I was able to help, I would! But as the protector of Earth, I can’t intervene in mortal affairs!”

He couldn’t even look at Dende. His eyes narrowed into slits and his mouth twitched under the strain of keeping silent. Instead he opened his mind to the psychic—focusing completely on the memory of pain, of fighting to stay conscious, of asking to be healed and being refused. The footsteps behind him stalled.

 “Vegeta, this was an unfair conversation.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I was young and afraid. My kin slain before my eyes. You killed them with just as much ruthlessness and laughed about it.”

“Oh, and I thought stopping an evil tyrant from becoming immortal and ruling the entire galaxy might have been of bigger concern at the moment than a few dead people.” His frown became deeper. The reminders of his past misdeeds never sat well with him. He had clearly been on “their side” at the time. Vegeta walked faster.

“You wanted the same wish and I did not know if I could trust you more than Frieza.” The sound of Dende scampering behind him also increased.

Vegeta’s aura roared to life before he even finished turning around. “You couldn’t trust me?! The others had to beg you to heal me! But you immediately healed that moronic Buu! He destroyed galaxies, killed gods, but one word from Kakarot and you ran to save his life!” Closing his eyes, Vegeta grit his teeth and willed himself to power down. The whole purpose of going out to hunt was to prove a point to Dende that he was the one holding all the cards in their relationship. Instead he had let the little green bastard rile him even more.

Without a word he turned away from Dende and strode off. This time no footsteps followed him. Reaching the fire pit, he sat the meat down and sliced it into smaller chunks with a few well-aimed ki bursts. His hands trembled as he rubbed the smaller portions with the spices Mr. Popo had left. Fingertips fumbled with skewering the pieces and placing them to roast over the fire. Inwardly cursing himself, he sat back on the tiles as the preparations were completed.

Thoughts racing, replaying unpleasant memories over and over, Vegeta stared out into the expanse of clouds. He had Gohan still. And tonight he was going to show Dende how tight his grip on the young man could be. How lucky Dende was he was willing to go along with this arrangement. That Vegeta was not one to be trifled with. His breathing slowed and he felt some of the stress leaving him, anticipation of his success calming him.

Gohan had asked him to befriend Dende. Now that he had cleared his mind, he felt _something_ about immediately planning a revenge on the small Namekian. He guessed it was guilt. His mind argued back to him, reminding him the day had started with him trying to have a normal conversation with Dende. It was the bastard’s fault it went awry and ended up this way.

Then again, the Galactic Empire wasn’t built in a day. He could always try again with Dende tomorrow. After completing his victory lap. Maybe the fool would take this opportunity to learn about keeping his mouth shut on certain topics. Tomorrow sounded like a great day to begin anew. Vegeta reclined on the white tiles and closed his eyes, listening to the fire’s crackles.

“I apologize for upsetting you, Vegeta. But I assure you that no matter what happened in the past, I harbor no ill will to you. I trust you with something incredibly precious to me.”

What the fuck happened to tomorrow? It was nauseating how easily the snake could creep up on him. “And what’s that? Your water pitcher?”

“You know. I would not have allowed you into our lives if I did not trust you.”

Vegeta rolled his eyes under their lids. As if Dende would deny Gohan anything he wanted.

“If I believed you to still be a threat I would have withdrawn from my relationship with Gohan and let you two be together elsewhere.”

Damn telepath. Vegeta blocked off his mind again while he spun the words in his head. Dende was crafty, but not devious enough to say this under a ruse to gain Vegeta’s trust and then backstab him. He also wasn’t prone to lying, so Vegeta was forced to accept him at his word.

“So you trust me because Gohan likes me.”

“No. I trust you because you have proven you are a good person.”

Vegeta snorted. Usually that type of declaration led to an immediate demonstration of how wrong whoever said it was. The Dragon had brought him back to life after his suicide against Buu though. Grinding his teeth, he once again had to accept Dende’s words.

“To answer your question from this morning: Gohan came to the Lookout many times after his father died. We became closer until it felt wrong to be apart. Even then he admired you. It just changed to something else over time. Until it felt wrong to keep him from you.”

Vegeta finally opened his eyes to look at the sky. His heart hammered in his chest and his cheeks felt warm. Dende’s pathetic answer had no business affecting him this much. Pushing himself into a seated position, he stared down at his stained gloves and scowled. Now his victory seemed hollow since Dende had waved the white flag.

“I know you went through the trouble of making this meal for Gohan, so I won’t interfere if you’d like to spend time with him alone.”

A glare wasn’t strong enough for the look he gave Dende. He made a mental note to demand Piccolo teach him the eye lasers trick. The little bastard was once again maneuvering to be the good guy. Telling Vegeta what he wanted to hear and then bowing out so Vegeta couldn’t say he had kept Gohan to himself—Dende had given Gohan to him.

“Tch.” He crossed his arms and cut his gaze away from Dende. “You can stay.”

“I don’t eat, so your cooking would be wasted on me.”

Vegeta looked back at him, this time his expression much softer. “I think Gohan would be happy if we shared a meal together.” Dende’s smile was infectious, even if he only cracked a smirk in response. If he could forgive Kakarot, he could forgive Dende. And if they became friends then it would be the ultimate victory for Vegeta, accomplishing something that made the person he loved happy.

They sat together as the dinosaur roasted, occasionally making small talk. When Gohan came back to the Lookout the smile on his face at seeing the pair together, laughing even!, was worth putting his bitterness aside. As the trio sat around the fire into the night, Vegeta looked into the direction planet Vegeta would have been and then back to Gohan. He finally knew what home meant.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

 

 


End file.
